Nostalgia

It was the last overnight ride of the summer, and we had a family of four that really didn't want anything to do with us. Brad and I gladly left them be, happy to be away from Mike's constant Brokeback jokes and lude comments about our fellow staff members. We sat by our own little fire until it burned out, sipping Forty Creek Whiskey, discussing the problems with our world, our jobs, our futures and whatnot. Eventually the conversation sifted down to nothing.
I stood up and walked through the dark over to my horse, Pinto, who promptly sniffed me down for treats. He found nothing but a finger up his nose. I gave him a quick brush down and tossed my saddle up. Brad gave me a quick look of confusion on which horse to take. I pointed at Silverado, who had done the 32 mile long ride with energy to spare. Silently, we tacked up, knowing if we got caught riding at midnight, we'd both get the can.
Two minutes later we were mounted up and riding away from the campsite, headed to the open fields south of Larson's house. Five minutes out, we came to the south end of one of Lars' long hay meadows. I looked back at Brad's silhouette and hoped his riding skills were up to snuff.
"Let's go," I whispered. Pinto immediately kicked into a fast lope. Turning in the saddle, I looked back at Brad. Predictably, Silverado didn't argue with Pinto's speed, or the logic against running through the dark. I gave Pinto another kiss, and let him open up. We flew through the dark, down the rows of silent hay bales waiting to be stacked, underneath the old worn out power lines. The wind rushed past in a beautiful chill, making that something swell in my chest, letting me know there was nowhere I'd rather be.

We'd run from the hay meadow all the way up the road and stopped a few hundred yards from the Larson's house. I knew they weren't home, so I didn't worry about them turning us in. When we reached the fork in the road that would take us up to their house, I cut up the hill a ways, finding a trail that would take us through a cut in the fence and up to the top of Goat Mountain.
"Beautiful night," I said softly, looking up at the cloudless, crystal clear Milky Way sky.
In reference to an earlier conversation about our lives, Brad summed it up:"This is why we're here."

(attatchment is my horse, Pinto)